The Color of Blood
by bookworm1999
Summary: Season 9. A new brand of Tequila gives our character a night they can't all remember, but the consequences will shake up friendships and alliances. Chlollie and Clois
1. Chapter 1

New story!! I've been fascinated by the possibilities in the Chlollie pairing for a while now and after last week's episode, it was just confirmed. This unites several ideas I've been toying with for a while, so I hope you like it, and don't forget to review!

Title: Color of Blood

Pairings: Clois, Chlollie

Spoilers: Up until Rabid. I'm still not sure If I will incorporate all the elements of the current season, so just go with the flow!

Summary: Alcohol and sex are usually a bad combination, so what happens when RedK is added to the mix? A new brand of Tequila changes the status of our characters in good ways and bad.

Rating: M for drug and alcohol abuse, violence and sex.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, don't sue

*If anyone would like to Beta this story for me, please PM me. I really need one!!

**Chapter 1**

Chloe's eyes felt like they had been glued shut with cement and for the life of her couldn't remember why she wanted to open them in the first place, slumber was so much nicer.

Ring

Oh, there it was. The sound resonated in her head, giving her an instant headache. She reached for the alarm besides her bed to turn it off, but her hand flailed as it went through the air and hit the floor she was laying on.

Ring

"What the…? She forced her eyes open and they slowly came to focus. The first thing she realized was that she was not in her bedroom. She looked down as she sat down, obtaining visual confirmation that she was indeed on the floor. She felt something slide off her and looked down at herself. She shook her head, she must be dreaming. How else can the fact that she was on the floor, naked, be explained? She reached for the fabric that had slid off and covered herself, her hand catching its collar. Collar? She looked down; a white, silk shirt lay firmly between her hand and her breasts.

"What in the world?" Suddenly she was afraid of looking around, what had happened last night? She took a deep breath and turned. She blinked furiously at the sun that came in through the stained-glass window. Momentarily blinded she felt around the floor with her hands. Rather quickly her curious fingers grazed skin. She scooted back immediately and forced her eyes to focus. There lying next to her, bathed in the morning sun, lay a very sculpted, very male back.

"Oh shit, shit." She tried to get up as quickly as possible, but her balanced was seriously altered. "What the hell happened?!" she let out a frustrated sigh as she tried to grab something to hold her. She managed to grab a hold of the stair rail before tipping something over with her foot. She looked down as red liquid spilled to the floor from the over-turned plastic cup. She picked up the cup and smelled it. The strong smell of tequila attacked her sensitive nostrils, and nausea hit her like a ton of bricks. She dropped the cup and covered her mouth with her hand. She made a beeline to the bathroom.

She barely made it, and after a couple minutes she found herself sitting on the floor, hugging her toilet. When the smell of her own vomit didn't make her throw up she knew she had gotten it all out of her. She flushed and slowly got up. Her reflection was scary to say the least. Her hair was matted and stuck to her face, dark eyes surrounded her eyes. She washed her face and her mouth, feeling only somewhat refreshed, she wanted to jump in the shower, but there was still the mystery man to take care of.

She dressed; thankful for the spare change she kept, and tried to remember, but her mind drew a blank. The last thing she fully remembered was being at Watchtower alone, checking on the League's status. Her mind started clearing and she remembered something else.

"Oh no." Dread filled her as she rushed to the control center. There, in the middle of her loft stood a half naked man. The rays that filtered through her window played with each curve and crevice of his muscular physique. His blond hair looked golden in the light. He turned at the sound of her footsteps.

"Chloe?" Oliver Queen seemed as distraught and confused as she.

She stood speechless before him, watching him silently as he scoured the floor for his clothing. He found his pants halfway up the stairs, his socks were hanging on the railing, right next to her underwear.

She observed and the scattered pieces of clothing started painting a picture for her. She became an objective outsider, taking in the evidence and recreating the scene. Her stomach turned over again, for one brief second her eyes made contact with his. His tortured look confirmed her suspicion. She ran for the bathroom one more time.

Now she was sure there was nothing left in her stomach. She got up and washed her mouth, again. She eyed his shirt on the bathroom floor, anger slowly taking the place of the nausea. She picked it up and walked back, only to find Oliver about to open her front door.

"Oh no you don't. What the hell happened last night?" She demanded as she threw his shirt at him.

He caught it before it hit his face. "Well, isn't obvious, sidekick? Looks like sex to me," he waved his hand across the room, motioning to the pieces of clothing still scattered on the floor. "but I don't know, I'm not the one playing Big Brother here, what's your expert opinion?"

She walked purposely towards him; then stopped on foot from his face. Her hand shot and hit him across the face.

He smirked as he returned his face to face her. "Now t_hat_ I know. The puking back there? Wasn't used to that, this, this I know how to handle. Good-bye." He placed his hand on the handle of the door once more.

Chloe took a deep breath and swallowed, hard.

"No, I need to know. I don't remember anything Oliver, did you give me something?" Fear mixed with anger in her eyes, she tried to control it, but there was no way around it. "Have you stooped so low as to drug me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," he bit his tongue as he realized how calloused he sounded. He took a deep breath and continued, the shock still on her face. "I don't remember anything either. Last thing I remember I was heading this way after I found your little spyware all over my stuff. My belt buckle, my phone, my shoes. Really, my shoes?" He took a step forward, all the anger from last night resurfacing. She took a step back, his face only inches away from hers.

She straightened her shoulders and ignored his tirade.

"Last thing I remember is you barging in here, drunk to the hilt, bottle in hand." She stared back. "You can chew me out later, but we need to figure this out. You might be used to getting so drunk you forget, but that's not like me, so something's up. " She motioned for the empty cup on the floor. "That's tequila, but its red; and where's the bottle?"

"Don't you have surveillance here?, or has all my money gone on lo-jacking me?" He raised his lip in a sneer. "It's not that complicated, we got drunk and had sex, we'll eventually remember. You don't need me here, and I sure as hell don't want to be here for another second. I have to clean out my wardrobe, this ends here, do you hear me?"

"I did what was necessary, and I don't regret it. Everyone else fell quickly back into the fold, they just need you." She turned her back to him and walked towards the central computer.

"So I wasn't the only one in the Big Brother house?" He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and disbelief.

"No, but you were the only one who bitched about it." She raised her eyebrow in contempt, then sat in front of the screen. She reached for the keyboard, still looking at him. Her hand touched soft fabric, she winced and closed her eyes when she recognized the lacy feel. She looked down, her white bra lay on top of the keyboard. She took a deep breath and took the offending garment, stuffing it in her pocket. She could feel his gaze on her and before he could say anything she rose her hand, not daring to look at him. "Don't say a word, and for the last time, put your shirt on."

Oliver looked down at the shirt in his hands. It was wrinkled and dirty, upon closer inspection he could see makeup and lipstick stains all over it. He shook his head in disbelief, had he really had sex with Chloe. Well, that wasn't too hard to believe, lately he had been bedding anything that had breasts. He looked up at her while he put the shirt on. No, what was hard to believe was that she would have had sex with him. He had wanted to leave the second he realized where he was, now curiosity took root.

In a couple long steps he was behind her, looking at the screen with her. She clicked and typed, bringing a player to life. He smirked and felt compelled to say something about the fact that they were about to see what had happened last night, it wouldn't be right. Hell, he hadn't exactly been Mr. right lately anyway, so who cared?

"Should I get popcorn? Or do you like to watch your porn alone?" He was a cad, he knew it.

"Really? Popcorn? Have you fallen so low you can't get a real, or sober girl to sleep with you? I guess even money can't hide mediocrity, can it?" She knew she was hitting below the belt, but he was being such a jerk and the whole situation had her feeling angry and mean.

She hovered the mouse over the play button, a sense of defeat coming over her. It was evident that she had slept with Oliver Queen last night. The room, her now aching body, was telling enough. Did she really need visual confirmation? Yes, she needed to know what would make her so irresponsible and go as far with him as it was obvious she did.

A chair being pulled up behind her shook her out of her thoughts. She looked back in a knee-jerk reaction, forgetting she didn't want to look at him. But she did turn and did see his face, his eyes were distant, lost. The set of his shoulders screamed 'back off', he reminded her of a wounded dog that would bite anyone who tried to help. She grunted, she sure had been biten. His gaze found hers then and she quickly turned back.

She pressed play and watched.

She saw herself organizing her desk, getting ready to leave. She looked up as something off screen caught her attention, she visibly tensed.

"What are you doing here? Are you drunk?" Oliver's form appeared then, he was disheveled and had a bottle in his hand.

"You are going to pay. How could you do this to me? I'm not your puppet, Chloe Sullivan." The anger was evident in his voice, he kept advancing until only the desk separated them. He leaned in then. "Did you see anything you liked? I must have given you some mighty good entertainment." A slight slurred escaped him.

"Look, let me take you home, okay?" She walked around the desk and approached him slowly. "We can talk about this when your sober."

He pulled back violently. "No, you do not control me." He took another sip and he looked her up and down while he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "You really are a pretty one, not as hot as your cousin, but sure pretty."

Even in the video the hurt on her face was evident. She reached for her phone and texted. When she looked back up he was gone.

"Oliver? What are you doing?" He came back with two cups in his hands. He placed them on the desk and poured, only spilling a little.

"Drink with me, I want to celebrate to your success. You have managed to do what no woman has even done before. Keep track of me." He lifted the bottle and laughed at his reflection on it. "Look, it's red!"

"If I take a drink, will you let me take you home?" He didn't respond, just gestured with his head to the cups. He put the bottle down and picked on up.

She reached for her phone again, pressed a couple of buttons and grabbed the cup.

"Fine." She took a quick sip. She placed the cup back on the desk and stumbled. "Hmm, that's pretty strong." She chuckled.

Chloe froze the image.

"What the hell? I can hold my liquor better than that" She expected some smart remark from the man sitting behind her, but none came. He was staring intently at the frozen image.

"Can you rewind to where I come in?"

She did as was asked and played it.

"There, freeze that. Can you zoom in on the bottle?" She frowned, not knowing where this was going, but did it anyway. The bottle came up, big and clear on the screen. It was practically full.

"I couldn't have drunk more that you did, and I remember being almost sober when I got here."

"So you took a drink and suddenly you're drunk and don't remember anything?" She swiveled her chair to face him. "What kind of Tequila was it?"

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face against his hands.

"I got it yesterday. A sample was sent to a select few. It's marketed to get you drunk, but without the sense dullness. It's supposed to make you feel everything stronger or something like that." His voice was filled with regret.

The small blonde in front of him didn't say a word. She no longer felt the need to keep watching. She had the equipment there to analyze what was left of the liquor. If it was this strong, it should be kept off the shelves.

Just then the pieces locked together in her brain, forming an ugly and scary picture.

"Oliver, I contacted Clark, that's who I was texting. I wanted him to help me get you home." Her face suddenly drained of all color.

"Wait, so he didn't show up, that's not like him?" He wondered, still not understanding.

"Don't you get it? He did show up, and that only means one thing. This little drink of yours has red Kryptonite!" Her eyes were wide.

"You can't be sure of that, maybe when he saw us doing it, he left." Even he knew that's not what he would have done, but the other option was too frightening. Clark on red kryptonite was dangerous to say the least.

"There's only one way to find out." She turned back to the computer and fast forwarded the video. They saw themselves fight and hit each in fast motion. They were kissing when Clark arrived, in full Blur get up. He approached them and pulled Oliver away from her. She pressed play then.

They watched as Chloe grabbed her cup and threw what was left of the Tequila at his face.

"Leave him alone, you big oaf!" She started laughing hysterically then.

Clark dropped Oliver then, licking his lips.

"He likes it." Oliver had joined her on the floor, both laughing.

The two figures in front of the TV watched in horror as Clark grabbed the bottle from the desk and took a big gulp. His eyes turned towards the camera then. She froze the image and zoomed in.

Red rimmed eyes stared back at them, an evil smile graced his face.

They looked at each other, not knowing how to react, after a couple of seconds they sprang into action.

They needed to find him and fast.


	2. Chapter 2

Here it is! I wasn't sure of Lois' living arrangement, so I stuck to the place I knew. Don't forget to review!!

**Chapter 2**

The following hour was full of action and panic. She sent Oliver away to clean up and within 30 minutes she had her all her screens up and running, called Dr. Hamilton and the League, and put the tequila through analysis. She was sure it was laced with red Kryptonite, but any information on the rest of the compound could help them. She rushed to take a shower while the analysis took place, watching it wasn't going to make it any faster, and if people were going to arriving soon, she needed to clean up. She chose to take a shower first to regain some peace and clarity.

The short shower didn't do much for her in the peace department. All she could think about was last night, the missing pieces she knew the shape and form of. She tried to think of something else, tried to concentrate on the falling water; but then she ran her soapy hand against her hip and winced. She looked down, a hand-shaped bruise was beginning to form. She bit her lip and checked the other side, same thing. Her mind became inundated with scenarios that could explain them, all of them involved Oliver's hands squeezing, pulling, pushing.

"Ahh!" She yelled in frustration at the heat that rose within her. She rinsed quickly and dressed. She stood resolute in front of the mirror, she didn't remember, neither did he; that should make it easier to pretend it didn't happen, and that's exactly what she was going to do.

She entered the main room with that mentality, getting rid of the evidence would be the first step.

Oliver entered then, clean shaven and fully clothed. She had forgotten how he looked without the dirty stubble.

"Everyone should be arriving soon, what's your plan?" He asked as he closed the door behind him.

"First, clean up. Did you get all your stuff? They're going to be asking questions either way, we do not need them to focus on us, or me for that matter." She kept her voice nonchalant, determined to keep her stance; nothing happened.

He stared, no knowing what to do. Her initial shock was obviously gone and she was all business now. He looked around the room, he had made sure everything of his was gone; but they had not only made a mess with their clothes, furniture and office supplies were all over the place. He went towards the desk, papers were all over the floor, as well as binders and folders. The corner next to the computer screen had been completely cleared off, it was large enough for a woman to sit with her legs opened wide. He shook the image from his head and bent down to pick up the folders underneath. He stacked them, on of top of the other. When he lifted one, a cell phone fell from inside. He grabbed it and placed it on the desk, on top of the now neat pile of folders.

"Found your cell phone." He called out as she stepped into the back room. She backtracked and frowned.

"That's not mine, I've got mine right here. Sure it's not yours?" She walked towards him.

"Yep," He started to turn it on when Chloe's hand appeared in front of him, palm outright, silently asking for the gadget. He gave it to and watched as she inspected it. Her close presence stirred something within him, was he starting to remember? He concentrated, but nothing came to mind. He took a deep breath and a soft, coconut smell reached him, bringing him back toreality. Her head was right below his, he leaned slightly and sniffed her wet hair. Yes, that was it, her hair smelled like coconut. It kind of reminded him of the beach. She started to look up and he quickly pulled away.

"It's Clark's, here are my texts." She looked up, his face was turned, as if he wasn't paying attention. Frustration and anger mixed within her. She ground out her next words. "Maybe this can tell us where to look?"

"Yeah, sure, of course." He smiled tightly and motioned with his hand towards the phone so she'd stop staring at him.

"Hmm, he received a call right before he got here, maybe that's why it took him so long to get here. She chose the last call received, Lois' name appeared on the small screen.

"Oh no." She heard him groan. A hint of fear and self-disgust in his voice. "What have I done?"

"He'd never hurt her, Oliver, even on that stuff. We just need to call her, maybe she knows if he had an appointment or something." She reached for her phone.

"That's not what I'm afraid of." He mumbled.

Her hand stopped, and she looked at him. She knew exactly what he was thinking, she was thinking it too, but was trying to stay positive. Maybe he had been a jerk and she blew him off, when he was on that he had no patience. What if he took the bottle and gave her a drink? In her clean up she had not found the bottle, or condoms for that matter. _Concentrate_, she chastised herself, _now is not the time and it doesn't matter anyway because nothing happened._

"What if he's still there, still high on the meteor rock? We can't call and alert him." He walked purposefully towards the door. "Call the guys and tell them to standby in case I need backup. I'm sure Lois wouldn't appreciate an audience if what I think happened did."

Chloe reached for a drawer on her desk and pulled out the bottom, it opened and revealed a hidden compartment. A small, black box lay there.

"Well, you won't do much without this, and we don't know how Lois will react, so I'm going with you." Her words made him stop and turn slowly. Her tone was firm and determined, her face matched it. He had thought of going home and getting the kryptonite ring. His mind fought against her logic, but it lost. She already had the rock and Lois was going to need some sort of explanation. He looked down at the keys to his motorcycle. He had brought it, thinking of its speed and agility. There was no way around it, she was going to go with him, riding behind him on his bike.

He let her through and follower her out of the building. His motorcycle was parked in front of it. Chloe was on the phone and once she eyed it she said good-bye to Victor and hung up. He was already on it, his extended hand offering her his helmet.

"Um, no, if you don't have a spare, I'll take my car." That, and the idea of making the trip to  
Smallville holding on to him did not please her.

He chuckled

"Not to scare you or anything, but at the speed we'll be going, this is not going to make that much of a difference. So hop on and I'll make sure we don't crash, okay?" He held out his hand and for a second she could see him, the Oliver Queen that was sure of himself and whose certainty was contagious. She bit her lip and let him help her. Her hand reached for the helmet and placed it on her head. She tightened the strap. A tingle of fear coursed through her as she remembered his words, she tightened it even further, some kind of protection was better than none.

"Hold on." He motioned to her with his head as he turned the motor on.

The machine roared beneath them and she placed her arms around his torso. She felt his muscles flex underneath her fingertips as he revved it and put it into gear. Her mind instantly sent the message to her hands to back off, but before it made it, the bike lurched forward. Instinct took over and she plastered herself against him, holding on for dear life.

Chloe had always thought Oliver was attractive, she wasn't blind. When she met him, he was going after Lois and she was with Jimmy. Later he turned to her for her abilities and their relationship was formed on conspiracy and crime fighting. She loved working behind the scenes of his little group of superheroes. At first it had helped her cope with so much that was going on in her life, and now it was helping her heal. Relevance and meaning can do that to a person.

Now, suddenly everything changed. She could deny it all she wanted, but the evidence was talking, loud. The idea of them together, in that way, was now implanted in her brain. She couldn't remember any of it, but her imagination was taking flight. If she thought she had an overactive imagination before, this proved it. The image of her ransacked Watchtower, the deep hum of the motor between her legs and the strength of his chest under her arms awakened something inside her. I wasn't love, no, she had lost that when Jimmy died, but it was strong. It was lust, raw, uninhibited passion, begging to be released.

She tried to lift her head to put some distance between them, but the wind burned her cheeks and eyes, making them water. In her haste she had forgotten to lower the visor, but he was going so fast she was afraid to let go to lower it now.

She blinked furiously and gave up. She burrowed her face against his back; the helmet and his body forming a barrier of protection for her face. She tried to focus on something, anything that would drive the thoughts and feelings that were taking over her.

He felt her nuzzle closer to him and his body instantly reacted. It was as if it remembered what his mind didn't . Her touch seemed natural, his skin seemed to want to jump out and meet hers. He had never though of her that way. Sure, she was pretty, he knew beauty when he saw it; but he had respected her for her abilities and was someone else's. Then Jimmy had died and he blamed himself for it, for her suffering. He knew she blamed herself and no one else, but in his eyes he had failed to protect a very important member of his team. The aftermath had been dark for him, and she, she just kept rising and pushing.

When he had first found the spyware he had thought it was Tess behind it. Upon closer inspection he realized it was his stuff, gadgets he had funded through Watchtower. His anger then turned towards her and it drove him to her place last night. He was looking for retribution, revenge, he wasn't too sure now. He just wanted to be left alone. Now it seemed that not only he had failed to protect her, he had proactively hurt her. Needless to say his anger and indignation were very effectively squashed.

He focused on the road and on their destination then. A blade went through his heart as he though of Lois. He loved her still and his carelessness had either driven her to another man's arms. He knew she had begun to harbor feelings for the overgrown boy scout, but had thought that if anything happened between them it would take a while. Now he had either sped things up or thrown a metaphorical wrench in their friendship. What hurt the most was that this Oliver he had become had nothing to offer, only pain. He had already hurt her little cousin. A thought sprung in his mind.

Lois was going to kill him.

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The Ducati stopped abruptly in front of the Talon. He felt Chloe step off, his back instantly missing the feel of her breast pressed up against him. He took a deep breath and got his body under control. His mind had to be stronger than his instinct.

"Look, try to get him to confront you, then open the box. If he's here, Lois is not going to remember anything, so let's try to be subtle. She'll have enough questions as it is." She placed the box in his hand, her eyes not meeting his. She seemed flustered and a little flushed.

He nodded his head and focused on the job ahead.

"Oh, and not a word about what probably happened to us, okay? Clark wouldn't forgive you and Lois, well, you know her." She pursed her lips and turned, not waiting for a response.

She reached the door to the apartment first and opened the door as slowly and quietly as possible.

A familiar scene greeted her. The apartment was a mess of clothes and the table was broken. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see what else had been destroyed. Clark was going to have to fix it all himself. She'd make sure of it.

Oliver came in behind her, a tortured look on his face, their eyes met for a second and it hit her. He still had feelings for Lois! At least he wasn't going to have to pretend to confront Clark.

She kept walking and found the living room empty, but completely rearranged.

She shook her head and headed for the bedroom. She inhaled deeply, hating what she was about to do. She reassured herself that under normal circumstances she would never enter a room where she suspected sex had happened, or worse, was still going on. She heard only silence so she felt some sort of relief.

She braced herself and pushed the door open. The bed held two naked, sleeping, bodies; the sheet barely covered them. Clark lay sideways, his back towards the door, his arms holding Lois tight against him, her body spooning hers.

She felt Oliver brush past her, his jaw tight. He reached for Clark and pulled him off her. She only dug herself deeper into the mattress.

"Clark, what the hell?" He was playing his part all too well.

Clark was instantly awake and glared at him, confirming their suspicion. He was still high. He slowly reached for his pants and Chloe turned away for a second. He never bothered to cover up while he dressed.

"Jealous, Oliver? I thought she meant nothing to you. You let her go, right?" He sat on the bed, a wicked smile on his face. "I'm just making sure her needs are being met. You know, she is really something. I can't understand how you let this fine specimen go." His eyes never left Oliver's as his hand reached for Lois' hip in a tight and slow caress. She began to stir.

"Clark?"

"I'll be right back." He whispered in her ear. "Just have to kill a cockroach that wandered in here."

Lois turned then, her eyes slowly opening as she covered herself with the sheet.

"Cockroach? Crap, just make .." Her voice trailed off and she practically jumped when she saw Oliver and Chloe in the room.

Clark super-sped against Oliver, sending them crashing into the living room. Chloe rushed to Lois' side.

"It's okay," Chloe started.

"What are you doing here, what is he doing here?" She pointed to the living room and her expression went from confused to horrified when she saw Clark lying in pain on the floor. She jumped from the bed, quickly slipping her night shirt on.

"Oliver! What are you doing!" She was angry and charged purposefully towards the living room.

Chloe blocked her, a little confused at her reaction.

"Lois, he'll be fine. He's just having a reaction to the tequila you guys had last night. You must have lots of questions, so calm down first, okay?" She placed her hands on Lois' shoulders.

"Tequila? What the hell are you talking about? And yeah, I have questions. What the hell are you guys doing here, and who do you..?" The question died in her lips as she spotted something next to the ailing Clark. "Is that meteor rock? Is that green Kryptonite? Chloe, you know that hurts him. Oliver! Get that away from him, now!" She pushed forward, but Chloe planted her feet firmly on the floor and pushed back.

A surprised Lois fell on the bed.

"How do you know that Lois?" Chloe's face was dead serious. Lois looked past her, her forehead scrunched up in worry.

"He told me." Was her simple answer, "He told me everything last night."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to my beta, bloodymary2, I couldn't have finished this without her help!!**

**Don't forget to review!!!**

* * *

**The previous night**

Lois sat in front of her computer; the screen stared back at her as the cursor blinked in the same place on the page. She took a deep breath as she ran a hand through her hair.

"What's the freaking point?" she said to no one, her voice almost echoing across the empty basement. She was alone, frustrated and behind her deadline. All the information was there, she just couldn't concentrate long enough to write it down.

As the days went by, her visions had gotten clearer, stronger. At first, she had though it was a recurring dream, but when the images assaulted her while she was wide awake, Lois knew it was no dream. So visions they were; of what, she still had to figure that out.

She saw Chloe, Oliver, a giant red ball of fire and Clark; Clark and yummy sex. She sighed and slumped her shoulders in defeat. Maybe sleep would keep the non-dream at bay. What bothered her most was that every time it happened, she saw something new, like another piece to a puzzle. Then sounds and feelings followed and she found herself unable think. Having Clark in front of her, didn't help matters any; his hands, his bare chest, his lips was all she could focus on. She tried to stay away from him, but that only brought visions of despair and anguish.

"The lesser of two evils, my ass." she reached for her purse and turned the computer off. She was going home to a long bath and 4 hours of sleep. That actually sounded good. She stretched her sore back muscles and headed for the elevator. Her fingers reached for the light switch and darkness engulfed her. She walked purposefully to the elevator when something caught her eye.

A tall, dark figure stood next to the stairs. She kept walking while reaching into her purse. Her hand closed around the small can of pepper spray. A shaky finger pushed the elevator button; the intruder was now walking towards her.

"Come on, come on," she urged the contraption on. She turned her face slightly, in case she needed to attack; she wasn't going to give him the benefit of surprise. He stepped into a small beam of light; it shone on its chest, playing off the white 'S' that was printed on it.

Her heart took off then, galloping at 100 miles per hour.

"Hey." She mustered before clearing her throat and attempted to do the same with her head. He was here! She needed to do better than 'hey'. "How are you?" she mentally smacked herself, what the hell was wrong with her? She decided to try one more time when he stepped fully into the light. "Clark?"

Disappointment and nervousness hit her all at once. His body seemed bigger and stronger in the all-black outfit. She moaned slightly when she remembered his lips on her neck, her hands caressing his broad chest.

"Halloween was 2 weeks ago, Smallville, what's with the get up?" Deflect, that had to work. She uncurled her fingers and let the small can drop back into her purse. "Trying to pick up unsuspecting bimbos?" She smiled teasingly and wiggled her eyebrows at him. She turned her attention back to the elevator as it rang, announcing its arrival. She missed the dark look he gave her.

"Well, come on. I didn't mean to interrupt your nightly fun when I called you, but since you're here. I need to go over…" She was abruptly cut off when she suddenly found herself between the elevator wall and Clark Kent. She felt the heat of his gaze and barely registered the elevator door closing behind him.

"I don't pick up bimbos, Lois, and this is not for 'nightly fun'; although, I'm more than willing to make an exception tonight." Both of his hands held her waist, keeping her trapped.

She was barely registering his words – his warmth intoxicating her - when one of his hands started moving north, his fingers tracing her silhouette. All coherent thought she still possessed fled from her mind; her body responded to his touch as if it had been on a Clark drought. _It's the dream, _she told herself. Damn dream.

His wondering hand reached her neck, engulfing it completely as he pulled her head up. She gulped and he smiled before crushing his lips to hers.

He was warm and moist against her skin. To her horror she felt her body melt against his, her hands ran up and down his back, relishing in the strength underneath her fingertips, hugging herself closer to him. He took his time nibbling at each of her lips. His calm, yet strong assault sent a wake of pleasure through her that pooled in her tummy.

The hand that held her waist slid torturously slowly to her back. She gasped as his open palm reached for her butt, his fingers curling where it met her leg and pulling her up. Lois could feel her control running away and she tried to rein it in. _Think, Lane, this is Clark, this is just… Hold on a sec, did he just call me..?_

Indignation rose within her, effectively cutting through the haze. She pulled away as much as she could, considering his firm hold of her body and stared at him. He stared back in slight surprise and annoyance.

"Did you just call me a bimbo?" She questioned as her hand reached behind her and tried to pry his hand away from their offending spot.

He laughed throatily and released her, but didn't step back. Her blood boiled again, this time in anger as she tried to push past him.

"Oh no, you don't" his laughter dying instantly. "I am never letting you out of my sight again." He smiled, but his voice carried a darker, almost bitter undertone. "I did not call you a bimbo" he brushed her bangs away from her eyes, caressing her face in the process. "You're the farther from it."

She forced herself to regain the anger and ignore what his touch was doing to her. It was hard. Besides, he seemed sincere enough to make her forget.

"So what did you mean by…" Her voice trailed as she suppressed a moan when he leaned in to kiss the pulsing point in her neck.

He pulled back and raised his eyebrow in an unspoken answer before leaning in again.

"Wait, you're not saying..? Ah!" He sucked lightly, but enough to make her forget her own name for a second. She blinked while trying to make oxygen reach her brain. "You? Him? It doesn't make sense."

"Lois." He called her name so softly, it sent shivers up her spine and she barely remembered to nod. He pulled away and looked deep into her eyes. "Shut up."

He kissed her hard then, not giving her a chance for a comeback. Her eyes rolled behind her closed eyelids. There was an urgency in his kiss that was familiar. She melted into him and threw her arms around his neck. Suddenly, a strange sense of déjà vu came over her. 'I wish we had more time' his voice echoed in her head and she pulled away. She took a deep breath in an effort to calm her beating heart.

Great, now she was having auditory hallucinations.

He bumped his forehead to hers, his eyes were closed tightly.

"I need you so much, Lois." He whispered fervently, sending shivers down her spine.

"We're not moving." She stated, suddenly aware of her surroundings.

"That's because you keep interrupting me." His husky voice added a maddening effect to his teasing. Visions of him moving inside her at an even more maddening rhythm made her cheeks flush an angry red.

"Not that, Don Juan, the elevator." Her voice was shaky and she pointed to the panel. "We never pushed the button. She reached around him and pressed the L. He pushed away to let her and she took the opportunity to duck away from him. The elevator moved beneath them.

"Don't do that," His voice was suddenly angry. "Don't deny what you feel, don't brush away your part in this." She looked at him in feigned ignorance, her mouth opened to retort. "I felt you tremble under my touch, this," He brushed his thumb over her heated cheek, "this is because of what I make you feel." He reached for her easily, the small space giving her no chance to escape. "You want this as much as I do."

"What's gotten into you? First you imply to being 'the' blur, and now you're trying to seduce me? Are you on something?" She asked. His eyes hardened for a second before they became unreadable. He tightened his hold on her.

"You don't understand. You were gone, and then you became a zombie! I almost lost you twice and that gave me plenty to think about. I can't think of a world that doesn't have you in it, I refuse to even consider it." The urgency was back as he spoke hotly against her face. "And now you've shown me you feel something for me, something as strong as what I feel for you." He pressed his lips against her ear, taking the soft cartilage between his lips.

A moan escaped her lips.

Damn it, he was right and she knew it. She'd wanted him, needed him longer than she'd care to admit. Maybe that's why she kept having those dreams; they were just her unconsciousness telling her what her heart already knew.

The door opened behind them, delivering them to the lobby. His lips found her mouth; his tongue pushed its way in, tasting every crevice. She kissed back, throwing all caution to the wind.

One strong arm reached under her knees and she found her whole body flush against his wide chest. He pulled away with a smacking sound, and then kissed her swollen lips lightly.

"Hold on, okay?"

She looked at him in confusion, but obeyed anyway, tightening her arms around his neck.

Everything around her suddenly became blurry and it was a few seconds before she realized they were moving fast. Really fast. She snuggled into his chest when the wind started cutting her skin. She took a deep breath, trying to make sense of it all; when she was assaulted by his scent. She dug deeper with her nose, wanting to smell more. Musk, wood and fire. She fought the sudden urge to rip his shirt off and lick him.

The world stopped moving as fast as it had begun, bringing her back to her senses. She looked up, trying to see what had happened. She met his face first; his eyes were dark and heavy. He held her gaze for what seemed like ages, it smoldered her and weakened her last resolve. He seemed to have been waiting for that, because the second she felt the last bit of control slip away his mouth was on hers.

She felt herself being lowered onto a soft bed, making her eyes open. The ceiling she had stared at for several years stared back at her. They were in Clark's room, at the farm. She hadn't been dreaming, it wasn't an illusion, he had sped them here.

"Clark?" She said between kisses, her mind holding on to a small shred of sanity, fed by her curiosity.

"Hmm?" He answered as his mouth moved away from her lips and down her neck.

She forced herself up, pushing him away in the process.

"How did we get here so fast?" She asked, kneeling in front of him.

He laid down beside her, his whole body stretched across the bed.

"I told you."

"No, you didn't tell me anything, you implied. Before any of this goes any further I need answers, buddy." She tried to sound firm, her brain was clearing up a bit, but it was still hard to think with him so close, looking at her like that.

"Just so you won't have any regrets, because I want all of you." He half growled as he shifted and kneeled in front of her. "But don't expect the long version; that will have to wait." His hand reached for her face and pulled her towards him in a searing kiss.

"I'm okay with that." she mumbled as he pulled away.

"I am the blur, and me bringing us here proves it, so no doubting that, okay?" Was he chastising her?

She crossed her arms. Of course, she doubted, but somehow she believed as well.

"You? But, you're Clark, my Smallville. Why didn't you tell me this before? You know I wouldn't have cared." She reached for him then; her hand caressed his cheek before he spoke.

"Remember Corben? I couldn't risk you like that, but now, now I'm not willing to lose you."

"Well, that's mighty selfish of you." She grinned, elation filling her to the point of explosion.

"You have no idea."

His arms surrounded her as his lips trailed kisses along her jaw.

"Wait, so that time..?"

"Lois," he warned.

"Yeah, I know, shut up." She smiled and let her eyes close, relishing in the sensations his mouth were causing.

He pushed her down on the bed, his mouth capturing hers again. She moaned in his mouth, giving him full access.

She loved kissing him, she decided; she could do that forever. A smile graced her lips at her epiphany, making Clark pull slightly away.

"Is something funny?" He said, as he moved down to her shoulder, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

"Not exactly, just thinking."

"Then I must be doing something wrong." Without warning, he snaked his hand under her shirt, his fingers soon finding the skin under her bra. With one flick, she felt the garment go loose around her, making her wonder if the material had been ripped it or if her farmboy was simply a god at undoing it. The same hand soon cupped her left breast and she stopped caring.

"Ugh." She swallowed hard, her mouth had suddenly gone dry. Her hands clenched around the sheets under her, her back arched against his touch.

"Much better." She heard him mumble against her collarbone. A small part of her wanted to slap him, the other, well, the other couldn't think at all.

Her breath hitched as his mouth continued to travel south and met the swell of her breast. His teeth grazed the edge of her blouse as his tongue darted out to lick the skin beneath the fabric. They both shuddered.

Urgency set in then, his hands reached for the buttons and payed no attention to whether they were being opened or broken off. She pushed the coat of his shoulders, the muscles under her hands rippling and she forgot to breathe. With her shirt finally falling open, he pulled away for an instant to shrug the coat off his arms, while Lois' hands occupied themselves with smoothing the 'S' on his chest over.

She looked up at him in awe, still trying to process everything.

"What does it stand for?" She asked quietly.

"Hope." He smiled, his exercise of self-control evident in his voice. He was trying to hold back for her.

Her heart tightened at his response. Hope, it fit him.

"Just one more question." She pulled his shirt up over his head, revealing his bare chest. The sight almost led her to forget what she was going to say.

"Lois?" His urgent tone made her remember.

"Who are you going to give the exclusive of the century to?" she cocked her eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

He was quiet for a second, like he was thinking his answer over.

"You, only and always you." He whispered, turning her insides to jello. His hands finished undressing her hurriedly, throwing the pieces of her clothing off the bed distractedly.

She couldn't think anymore, not with his hands covering her body, teasing and taunting her every sense. She tried to return the favor, but he held her hands captive next to her head. Clark kissed her hotly, quickly. She was about to complain, when his mouth closed around one of her breasts. She swallowed a scream of surprise as she bucked beneath him.

He suckled and nipped unmercifully, until she was panting for air. He let his tongue twist around her nipple before his teeth nipped lightly at the now tight bud.

She didn't hold back a guttural moan as he bit down, and then resumed sucking. Her body shook, needing release. She threw her leg over his hip, trying to increase the contact between their bodies and find some relief.

"You're deadlier than kryptonite." he groaned, and in what seemed like a millisecond his naked body covered hers. "I'm trying to take it slow, but you are not making it easy."

She let the kryptonite comment pass, she was too far gone to care.

Lois let her mouth brush against his ear and whispered, "Who said you had to?"

He growled and in one swift movement grabbed her hips and entered her.

She gasped as pain and pleasure hit her all at once. He paused a moment, savoring the feeling and allowing her a moment to adjust to his girth. She was having none of it and moved, gyrating her hips and urging him on. He didn't need to be told twice.

He began to move, slowly at first, letting her feel every inch of him as he withdrew and pushed back in.

"Clark," she groaned, meeting his thrusts, trying to quicken the pace.

One guttural moan escaped his lips as he accepted her suggestion. He angled his leg, rising hers in the process.

She gasped as the change in angle had her seeing stars, her belly tightened gloriously as he pumped into her again and again. Her nails dug into his back in an effort to tighten their embrace, her chest already pressed against his.

He suckled her neck and nibbled on her ear, his hand still gripping tightly on the leg around his waist, but didn't, for a moment, miss a beat. Her breaths were coming in short gasps as she pushed against him, meeting every thrust, a very raw need to get under his skin overpowering her.

She wanted him, all of him; in her, filling her up until there was barely any space for her left.

"Lois, my Lois." His rough voice and the possessiveness of his tone spoke to her female need to be taken and, as small as it was in someone like Lois Lane, it answered.

"Yours... Ahh, Clark!" He had grabbed her waist, sinking even deeper within her. With each thrust he touched her womb and she felt herself going over the edge swiftly and powerfully.

She rode every wave until she had nothing left to give. He pushed roughly against her, erratically, until with a deep growl he emptied himself inside her. Nothing had ever felt so glorious.

He fell on the bed next to her, his own breathing as erratic as hers and pulled her against him, spooning her spent body to his. Absentmindedly, he played with her taut nipples, sending aftershocks throughout her deliciously sensitive skin. She tried to open her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. So, she settled, feeling utterly happy and content. Her hand, however, came up and covered his, not quite able to take their torture, wonderful as it was, any longer.

He took her hint and wrapped his arms around her tightly, buried his face in her hair for a second and then pulled it away to nestle his nose against her neck.

"Can I ask you something?" His soft voice interrupted the silence, her slowly calming heart beat skipping a beat at the husky tone of his words.

"Anything," she responded. Never in her life had she felt so vulnerable, yet protected at the same time. She turned to face him, meeting his searching eyes and she let the last remains of her protective walls crumble. He kissed her, molding his lips to hers softly.

He pulled away, just enough to speak and in a fervent voice, whispered his request.

"Lois Lane, will you marry me?"


	4. Chapter 4

Fire; it was in him and it hurt. Clark tried to battle against it, but the more he fought, the more it consumed him. He tried to control the cries of agony that threatened to escape. He couldn't let her see how much it hurt. He only had to hold on for a couple of seconds, because when she woke up, she'd help him. She'd run towards him and throw the hellish rock out the window and any doubt he had of telling her everything about himself last night would evaporate. She'd stop the inner hell in its track and when that happened, he would break Oliver's scrawny human neck.

He heard her voice and hope surged within him. With what little strength he had, he opened his eyes and smiled menacingly at the blond man standing over him. His plans of revenge sketched clearly on his face.

"Don't count on it big guy, Chloe may seem small, but she's got more firepower in her than Lois gives her credit for." Oliver said with a dry smile.

Clark growled and tried to sit up. The kryptonite rolled away from his chest, giving him some respite. He took advantage of the small break and scooted back towards the wall, raising himself to a sitting position.

He watched in anger and frustration as an expensive shoe slid the green glowing menace back towards him, reigniting the fire.

"Son of a bitch," Clark ground out, "When I get my hands on you, there won't even be dental records to identify your shitty ass."

"Huh, the Boy Scout can cuss. Never thought I'd see the day, can't say it's very flattering, Clark. Being an alien all you have with the ladies is your farm boy charm." His voice was hollow and dark. If Clark wasn't so angry and high, he might've cared.

He let his head fall against the wall, his eyes closed as exhaustion won over the anger. Sweat began to pepper his forehead, cooling the fire, but leaving the pain. Clark was suddenly aware of a dark red haze that covered everything in his sight. He blinked and visibly saw it dissipate slowly. At that moment every single memory of the night before hit him like a runaway train. Every scene was tinted with an angry red. A different pain hit him then. He fought against it and tried to hold on to the haze; it felt better with it coloring his every thoughts and actions.

"No, that's Clark, not some high, drunk version of him and you're hurting him." He smiled at the sound of her voice, and then grimaced as guilt and regret tore at him. It made the physical pain less pronounced, but not less deadly. Lois was fast approaching and in no time she was kneeling next to him, reaching for something on the floor.

"Lois, no!" He heard Chloe yell.

"Don't you dare come near me, Oliver, I can take you down." Her voice was tense and violent; protective even.

When he realized what she was doing, the losing part of him cheered - there was still a little fire in him - but the minute he opened his eyes and saw her anguished face, his hand covered hers, stopping her rescue. A smaller part of him screamed to let go, to let her finish the job and regain his peace. He now fought against that and shook his head in a negative gesture, too tired to speak.

"Clark?" She turned to face him; her face was only inches away from his.

Clark could easily read her confusion and her fear. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to wish away what he had done to put that fear there. He wanted to tell her that Chloe was wrong, that he had acted as he would've normally. "Just a little longer," He managed, still seeing just a hint of red in everything around him.

Oliver and Chloe stood a couple feet away from them, ready to spring into action.

"So, it's true?" She straightened next to him, her fingers still tight around the rock. "You were high? Nothing was…" She ran her hand through her hair and the morning light shone off something on her hand.

Chloe gasped loudly and Oliver huffed. Lois visibly swallowed before she broke their gaze to turn to their two morning intruders.

"Is that a…?" Chloe was in shock; Oliver was a bit more eloquent.

"What the hell?"

Clark looked at her hand; a sleek silver band circled her ring finger. What had caused him so much joy last night now ate at him. Insults ricocheted in his head, what if's and dreams vanished as the very raw memory of the previous night burned in his head. She'd deserved better, so much better.

"We were drunk, okay? We went to Vegas and got hitched, and that is as far as I'm going to go because it is none of your damn business." Her lips were drawn into a tight line as she turned her attention back to Clark. Her eyes searched his, for something he did not know, could not pinpoint.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, truly sorry he had dragged her into his fantasy with no regards to anyone but himself. She blinked and in an instant her face became unreadable.

"Don't. Don't worry about it, Smallville. No harm, no foul; I'll send you the annulment by mail and we'll forget about it, okay?" She pushed against him to stand up; the kryptonite in her hand burned his shoulder. A muscle in her jaw twitched and she bit the inside of her mouth.

"Lois," He started, but she silenced him by putting her open hand in front of her.

"Here," she said as she dropped the kryptonite on his lap, "better make sure it's all out of your system." Was her voice breaking? There was only a hint in her tone, her face showed no emotion. Maybe he had imagined it.

He groaned in pain and she turned on her heel, disappearing from his sight.

Silence reigned for what seemed like an eternity, while Chloe and Oliver stared at him in shock. He was dripping wet by now and could see clearly so he knew he was clean.

"Uh, guys?" his voice was barely above a whisper but it was enough to startle them out of their trance and into action, just not the kind he needed.

"Dammit, Oliver!" Chloe exploded, "See what happens when you wallow in self-pity and do nothing about what's eating at you? You are a selfish, masochist bastard who thinks that what you do has no effect on others! Whether you like it or not, you are part of something bigger than yourself and everything you do matters." She pointed her finger at him and poked his chest to drive her point home.

"Watch it, sidekick. It's not my fault Clark's planet exploded and sent rocks from all the colors of the rainbow with him. And don't you dare lecture me on duty and country. I asked you to leave me alone; you had no business tracking me!" His face grew red in anger.

"Maybe I was wrong and there is no point waiting for you, Oliver Queen. Maybe you are a bigger egotistical jerk than I thought." She crossed her arms across her chest and planted her feet firmly against the floor.

"Have you seen me try to prove otherwise? I know who I am and who I'm not, and I'm not the man you're waiting for." He spit out. Bitterness rose so fast inside him, he had to fight the urge to gag.

"Guys." A weak voice tried to interrupt them; neither heard.

"I'm just trying to do what's best for this city. I'm sorry I ever thought you could ever be part of what you started! The league looks up to you, you're the reason they even care to make a difference. You gave u…them purpose. How the hell do you think they feel, huh?"

He took a step back. He knew she wasn't above dragging them into this and trying to make him feel guilty, but it still threw him off. He shook his head; no, he didn't care anyone. He couldn't deliver on their expectations, be who they needed him to be. Things were better as they stood. He delivered his next words slowly and softly, but with as much conviction as was possible.

"Then it's about time they realized Green Arrow is dead and buried and that Oliver Queen doesn't give a shit." He held her gaze and couldn't help but be surprised at the hurt that flashed across her emerald eyes.

The door slammed and they both looked up, suddenly aware of their surroundings.

"Oh my God," Chloe exclaimed as she saw that Clark had passed out. He looked deathly pale. She rushed towards him and grabbed the unnecessary kryptonite from his still form. "Where's the box?" She questioned.

"Here," Oliver handed her the lead box, "he looks dead. Did we just kill the blur?"

"Shut up and help me move him to the couch, he'll be fine." Her heart thundered in her chest, at least she really hoped he would be.

"You know, for such a tiny little thing you sure are bossy." He knelt over Clark's body and slung a deadweight arm over his shoulder. As much as he hated the Boy Scout at the moment, he did not want his demise.

Chloe ran towards the curtain and opened them as wide as they would go, letting sunlight bathe the living room.

"Just put him on the couch, he should be okay." Chloe and Oliver worked together to get all of Clark into the couch, or as much as they could. His feet dangled over the arm rest, and he looked very uncomfortable. "He's getting sun, that's all that matters." She muttered to herself.

"Huh?" Oliver asked, not catching what she had said.

"Nothing. Watch him while I talk to Lois." She marched towards the bedroom.

"Watch what? He's asleep or dead and I'm no angel to guard either one, so good-bye." He walked towards the door but stopped short when he caught a glimpse of Chloe at the bedroom doorway. Her eyes were wide. "What's wrong?" Why did he even care to ask? He brushed the thought aside, waiting for her answer.

"Lois, she's gone." She whispered.

"She probably just went for a walk, hell, I'd be running a marathon after what she just went through." His chest tightened in pain at the thought of Lois.

"No, she took her clothes, at least what she could grab. She's gone."

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it took so long, but here it is! **

**Don't forget to review!!**

* * *

"I don't care, I don't care, I don't care…" Chloe chanted as her eyes stared transfixed at the screen. "I shouldn't care, it's not my problem." She felt her resolve quickly weaken, though.

The adrenaline high the past hour had enforced upon her was still making her heart race and her mind reel. What to do. She needed solutions! She had helped the hero out while she witnessed the final undoing of the billionaire. She evacuated the premises from the safety of Watchtower and watched helplessly as Oliver stepped away from the podium, fully expecting the whole building to blow. It had been written on his face; he was expecting to die. Her heart stopped for a second then, as she cried out in surprise and horror. When nothing happened, his look of confusion and utter disappointment was visible through the feed. Deep worry rooted within her then and the gears in her head hadn't stopped turning since.

"He doesn't want help, Chloe." She told herself even as her fingers flew over the keyboard, clicking the mouse with determination.

The last couple of days had been taxing on her, to say the least. Her cousin was nowhere to be found and after Clark refused to go after her, claiming to be giving her time, she had taken matters into her own hands. All her resources were to no avail, though. Lois was on assignment out of the city, that was the extent of her knowledge and she couldn't understand how she was capable of breaking into a remote building's mainframe but found locating Lois Lane to be an impossible task. She'd taken her frustration out on the Red Tequila, but that too had proven to be more difficult than she had anticipated. As of today she was still waiting for results from the fancier, much more sophisticated analyzer Dr. Hamilton had access to. Chloe felt off her game and was tired of feeling useless and helpless.

The gala that night had been the last straw.

She chewed on her bottom lip and furrowed her brow as she read the profile in front of her. This was the last piece to the puzzle. She opened another screen and started making a time line. She would have to get reinforcements and the plan still needed fine tuning. She took a deep breath and got to work, because, no matter how many times she tried to tell herself otherwise, she cared.

* * *

When Senator Kent's eyes burned and the words in front of her started to blur, she knew a break was in order. Martha rubbed her neck as she sat back on the couch. She had been reading bill proposals for the better half of the day and was tired. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to rest, if only for 15 minutes.

"At this rate, you're going to work your hands raw!" She had told Jonathan countless times. He'd grin at her and then continue on with whatever was occupying his hands at the time.

"And how many times have I told you a sandwich would suffice and you'd go ahead and prepare a three course dinner?" His eyes would twinkle as he raised an eyebrow at her.

"A sandwich is not a meal." She'd protest, lifting her head in mock indignation.

"And this isn't going to fix itself. So we're both slaves to duty, Martha," He'd stop then, dust his hands and pull her close, "and neither you nor I would have it any other way."

Bittersweet memories, they were, but she treasured them. She took a deep breath and for a moment she could pretend his smell still surrounded her and she could feel the pressure of his arms holding her close.

"Well, Jonathan, here I am." She said to the empty room around her. "Still a slave to duty, it's just not as much fun without you." She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. It was at times like these that loneliness took hold of her and threatened to break her.

A quick knock at the door broke her out of her reverie and she was thankful. Tucking away her memories, she straightened herself up and walked towards the door.

There, filling her door frame stood the main reason for her not to break.

"Clark!" She didn't hold back and pulled his 6 foot 4 frame towards her in a hug.

"Mom," He whispered with a marked tone of relief into her hair. "It's been too long, I know."

"Yes, it has." She pulled back, but didn't let him go, wrapping her arms around his waist and leading him inside. "Not that I don't understand, but you'd think that having a son who can super speed, could find the time to drop in and see his mother."

He looked down, her wide smile and twinkling eyes took him back to years before and suddenly he was home. Clark found himself smiling back.

"Sit, sit. I've been reading all about you, I'm so proud of you, son. Do you want something to drink?" He looked tired, she noted.

"No, I'm fine." He sat on the couch and smiled up at her.

"Can't say I like the name, 'the blur', makes you sound evasive and secretive, how about some pie?" She sat down next to him and grabbed his hands. "It's not mine, but it's still pretty good."

His mouth turned slightly upwards in a semblance of a smile and he shook his head. He looked so somber, even when attempting a smile. His silence spoke volumes to her and she knew something was up. She sat facing him with her hands on her lap and waited; her son had always needed time to sort out his thoughts.

Clark relished the silence and her mere presence was soothing to his psyche.

"Jor-el gave me mind reading powers." He broke the silence.

"Really? Is that a new power?" She knew he was evading what was bothering him, but she followed along.

"Not really, it was only temporary. It was supposed to help me read people better."

"And, how did that go?" She tried to catch his gaze.

"It was interesting; I got a lot of insight on people, though I've got to say I'm happy it's not permanent. I felt like I was spying on everyone." He averted her gaze, suddenly finding the pattern of the couch very interesting.

"Yeah, I guess that would feel weird, but I'd give anything to read what's going on in your head right now. There's something else bothering you, isn't there?" She reached for his hands again.

Clark shifted in his seat.

"Can't I just visit you? I'd hate for you to think I only come when I need something, Mom." He covered her hand with his.

"I believe last time you came, we spent hours on end talking about nothing in particular. And since when do you have to apologize for needing my help? That's why I'm your mom, Clark, so fess up."

He took a deep breath and decided to just dive in.

"I married Lois after I was exposed with red kryptonite." He faced her fully then, gauging her reaction.

Shock was her first reaction. Martha blinked and stood up. She paced in the small space between the couch and the coffee table trying to digest his words.

After what seemed like ages to Clark, she stopped in front of him and spoke.

"Why?"

Clark looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean..?"

"The red kryptonite was only the fuel, Clark. While on it, why did you marry her?"

Clark hadn't thought about it that way. He tried to remember his red K infused mentality. He furrowed his brow as it started coming back to him.

"I wanted her." He said finally, more to himself than to his mother. "I didn't want anyone else to even think up an excuse to touch her." He looked at his mom and blushed.

"Oh, honey." She sat next to him and smiled sympathetically. "How long have you felt this way about her?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "Little by little, she's become very important to me and now I feel like I've ruined any chance with her. She wasn't infected, so she remembers everything. She found out I was infected and disappeared. I know she's hurting but I don't know what to do." He felt defeated as he spoke.

"She didn't get infected? Back up, son. What happened exactly?" She'd considered the possibility of a certain red lipstick having found its way to Lois again; the new bit of information confused her.

Clark closed his eyes tightly as memories rushed through his head, some more painful than others, some more wonderful than he'd care to admit.

"Someone thought mixing red meteor rock and tequila was a good idea. It gives people a high of some sort. I tried to help some friends that drank it and it spilled on me. I downed what was left of the bottle and went looking for her. I revealed myself to her…. She accepted …." He found himself unable to continue and he shook his head.

"So she married you while sober and knowing you secret?" She had always known Lois was a great girl, but this was enough to have Martha bursting with pride for her and mourning with her at the same time.

"I had an unfair advantage, mom. I," he paused, "I twisted some things to..." He stopped when she put her hand up.

"Do you regret it?"

"It's not the right time, mom. My life isn't exactly easy and I'm still trying to label what I feel for her." He ran a hand through his head in frustration.

"That's not what I asked. Do you regret it?" She repeated.

He stared silently at the floor.

"When you answer that question, you'll know what to do. Now, let me feed you. I do have some pot pie I managed to bake in the midst of this organized chaos that is my life." She smiled, patted his leg and headed towards the kitchen. "Maybe some home cooking can help clear that head of yours."

* * *

**Review, pretty, pretty please!!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

She thought she was ready, but the flutter of her heart and the knot in her stomach told her otherwise.

"Get a hold of yourself, Lane." She scolded herself as she turned the car off and stared at the bright farmhouse in front of her.

The memories she had practiced forgetting during the past two weeks rushed back like water off a broken dam, threatening to drown her. She took a deep breath and forced every scene she could back where it belonged, under lock and key.

One refused to go away and it gnawed at her newly reinforced defenses.

"No, no." She used all of her inner strength to clear her mind of that pesky scene that played over and over whenever something reminded her of him. She had to get it under control, or turn the car back on and leave. Her hand hovered around the keys in the ignition for a second before she steeled herself and took the keys off. It was now or never, she would have a lifetime to forget, right now she needed to erase the paper trail that bound them. She reached for the white envelope next to her and opened the door.

Lois straightened herself and walked purposefully towards the front door.

She knew he wouldn't be there and was immensely grateful for having her car radio turned on during the ride back home. The news of a three alarm fire in Metrolopolis was just what she had needed to know; one u-turn and she went straight for the farm instead. Her instinct had been right, if just seeing his house drained her, she didn't want to find out what seeing him would do to her.

The spare key was where it always had been and she let herself in. She went straight for the kitchen and put the envelope on the counter. She stared at its blank face and thought it could be confused with trash so she started her search for a pen. Once she had a pen in her hand she wrote his name in a dark and heavy print. She stared at his name in her handwriting and felt herself grow angry.

Her lip curled up in a bitter smile, anger she knew how to deal with.

* * *

Clark was tired but happy. The fire had produced no casualties, and thanks to him, the damage had been a lot less than expected. He headed for Smallville, there were chores he needed to take care of and a dog to feed.

He heard her before he saw her. Her calm, strong, heartbeat, went straight to his own heart, altering its rhythm. He slowed down once he reached the driveway, unsure of her disposition and determined to proceed slowly.

Clark didn't bother calming the erratic beating of his heart, he had every reason to be nervous and there was no point in trying to control it. She was walking towards her car, her eyes fixed on the keys in her hands.

Shelby ran out of the barn and ran straight towards her, tail wagging enthusiastically.

"Hey, you!" she said as she knelt down to pet the golden retriever. "How are you doing?" She sighed heavily and was about to say something when the dog barked and took off. She looked up to see what had distracted Shelby and her smile waned when she saw him walking down the driveway.

He patted Shelby's head and kept walking. He steeled himself at her possible reaction but didn't slow down.

He stopped a couple feet from her, not knowing if he should speak first or not. Silence enveloped them for a couple of seconds before Lois started to fidget.

Shelby whined and pawed Clark's leg.

"He's hungry." he stated, not moving an inch.

"So feed him." She stared down at her keys again and began to walk towards her car.

He sped to block her way to the now offending vehicle.

"He can wait."

If he surprised her, she hid it well. Her face was stoic as she turned and stared straight into his eyes.

"Well, I can't. I need to look for Oliver, it's not like him to blow our birthday beer pong tradition." She lifted her eyebrow and motioned with her head for him to move. She raised both when he didn't budge.

"We need to talk, Lois. You came all this way for something." He found himself pleading with his eyes.

"Yeah, and I've already dropped off the annulment papers, so off I go." She looked down at her hands when he didn't stop looking at her. "Seriously, Clark, there's nothing to talk about, we got drunk and said 'I do' in front of a Mexican Elvis. Just sign the paper and it will be like nothing had happened, okay?" She crossed her arms in an impatient gesture.

He shook his head, she was just going to plain out deny everything that had happened between them? He scoffed before he could stop himself and almost flinched when she pursed her lips in indignation, but his pride was too hurt.

"You weren't drunk, and what I was high on doesn't make me do things I don't want to do. I understand you're hurt, but I can explain if you let me and we can figure this out, together. Lois, please." He took two steps and closed the distance between them. "Let's just, talk."

She clenched her jaw and for a second he could see something flash across her eyes that gave him hope, but just for a second, because it was gone in a flash, making him wonder if he had seen it all.

"Fine, but right now I can't. Do you have any idea where I can find Oliver?"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, but her eyes were cool and the planes of her face were almost relaxed. It took all his strength to reign in his emotions; he remembered what his mother had told him and to his own surprise his whole body calmed down and he found himself smiling at her.

"No, but I'll help you look." He walked around the car and let himself into the passenger seat. His smile only got wider when he caught a glimpse of her face, she was visibly thrown off.

"Fine," She said as she started the car. "Just no country stations, okay?"

She hadn't kicked him out of the car, so that had to be a good sign.


End file.
